


The Windmill Flyers: Through The Window of Time

by Leaftenant-Commander Jess Canadaman (thegogglehead)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegogglehead/pseuds/Leaftenant-Commander%20Jess%20Canadaman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of stories based in my Original Setting to shed some light on the lore or historical figures from between the 'Exodus' and the beginning of my Bi-Weekly Pathfinder Campaign in the same world. These stories hold no specific chronological order and may involve various Historical Figures or random characters in the world setting. The Windmill Flyers does belong to me as do all characters inside these stories. (Any character similarities can be noted if you want. I admit to having created a couple characters based off of different ones, but I've admitted them all or been told they have similarities before.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Holy Warrior I: Sweet Memory of a Bitter War.

**Author's Note:**

> A.E.: After Exodus  
> Divine One: A God.  
> The Dark Queen: A Dark Goddess.

~After Exodus 16~  
Lacryma knew it would be hot when she finally got back to the Notus region, but as she rode her horse through the jungle path that led to the tribal city of Forneus, she cursed herself that she had not prepared better for the humidity that only a rainforest jungle could provide, her few pieces of clothing and the cloak that covered her head not doing much to ease her discomfort. It had been three weeks since she had left to the Aeolus Region to give to her friend, Master Yasen Scarlet, a Diamond Flower that had been made by the artist Geoffrey Gipetto. She had also left to secretly confront the heretic that had been kidnapping young women throughout the continent to sacrifice to find a fake godhood. She never enjoyed killing people, but she could not let blatant heretics roam the continent, risking the lives of the innocent people who remained. Thus, she performed her duty swiftly and without question.

When she passed through the gates of Forneus, she took a moment to look over its splendor. Despite being the capital city of the Notus Region, it was not a treetop city such as the rest of the region. On the contrary, it was a stone walled city with beautifully carved statues and other symbols of the Divine One’s religion strewn throughout the city. She lowered the hood from her cloak as she maneuvered her way toward the Bar of the Marquis. Guards bowed in reverence to their leader, and she could hear them mutter the words ‘Saint Lacryma has returned’; words that made her frown briefly. She was not a saint, she was an Inquirer. No, one of the four Grand Inquirers; people who killed those deemed heretics by god and by her church and supposedly even above the law. However, to be an Inquirer, one pious to the church must take a vow of secrecy; to never reveal their status as Inquirers, except to those they are judging in the name of the Divine One or the Council of Inquirers, the highest level within the church of the Divine One, even higher than the Cardinals, or the High Chancellor even.

She shook the thoughts from her mind and greeted the people kindly as she arrived at the local Bar of the Marquis and brought her horse to a stop. It always amused her that her brother Edgar opened a chain of bars throughout Alterius, and expanded to the horse rental business even while he led the Zephyrus Region. She wondered for a moment what Edgar would say if he knew that she walked down this path, but quickly dashed those thoughts, as she knew he would never approve. She quickly handed off the horse to the representative, along with a letter from the representative in Aeolus, stating that trade was made in full. The Marquis representative took both in a reverent manner and allowed Lacryma on her way.

She returned the hood over her head to shield her eyes from the sun and walked silently the rest of the way to her home at the northern end of the city; all she wanted to do was to arrive home and greet her husband of almost seven years.

When she arrived, she stood at the door for several minutes and tried to compose herself fully. Her husband always knew when something was bothering her, but he always seemed to understand when she didn’t want to talk about it. He had absolute trust in her, and sometimes she could not understand why he loved her so much; all she knew was that he did and she was forever grateful. She thought back to that day, nine years ago…

~A.E.8: First Heathen War: Forneus Barracks ~

The First Heathen War: A righteous crusade, where the followers of the Divine One who survived judgement at the Exodus passed another tribulation on the road to their sanctuary. A war to defeat the impure, those creatures who followed The Dark Queen; to Lacryma Alberich, however; it was more than that. It was a production, a play that she was forced to take part in since her birth, and one while she wished she could walk away from, that choice had long since disappeared…

It was the morning before the forces of the United Six Armies were to charge in to fight the Heretic Army in the final battles throughout the world. While Lacryma’s army faced the Heathen Army’s main force in Notus, each of the other Six Leaders would stake their regions and push back the other forces. It was her mission to sneak through the ranks and take on the Heretic Army’s Leader, a man named Donald Monos. 

Lacryma had been avoiding her friends since the mission to save her from her captors, even going so far as trying to stop them from joining this battle she felt would be their end. The woman with the title ‘holy warrior’ stood in one of the guard towers alone as she watched the sun rise. She needed to be alone, however someone had other ideas.  
“Is it true? Will I get in the way?” a familiar masculine voice said as the woman heard wooden footsteps climb the stairs behind her. The man wore wooden armour, with a mithril sword at his side. She could imagine his bright blue eyes narrowed into his most intense stare. She could also imagine him as he brought a hand to brush aside a few brown bangs away from his eyes to try and make his stare have more of an impact on her. However, as long as she didn’t look directly into the man’s eyes, she would not be affected at all.

“Please understand. It’s better if you don’t get involved; it’s for your own good, Emilio.” She answered, as if she had been rehearsing this conversation in her mind a hundred times over. “Someone needs to stay here to hold this fort down. If we lose this stronghold, the heretics will win this war.” She didn’t turn to face the man, but she instinctively knew what would happen next.

“I don’t care! I’ll go with you.” He answered defiantly as he shook his head. 

The holy warrior simply lowered her gaze slightly and sighed. “Don’t be a child, Emilio.”

“We’re the same age, there’s no reason you need to carry this burden without me.” He snapped back.

“Why can’t you understand? This is what I chose. You have nothing to do with this.” Lacryma responded in a sullen manner.  
Emilio tightened his fists and spoke firmly “Like hell it doesn’t, I love you!” Lacryma couldn’t find the words to answer him before he continued. “Not just me, everyone here does and you know it; except, their love is mixed with jealousy or respect. My love is real. All I can do is protect you. That’s all I want to do.”  
“I don’t deserve to be protected by you.” She cut him off and closed her eyes. He was stunned by her words, she knew he was. She knew she had to do this, if only to give him a future. Once they defeated the heretic army here, the six leaders could form their regions, in peace. He would be a good leader of the Notus Region, she figured; and waited for the man to leave, dejected as he had done so many times in the past.

“Why?” He then asked. “Why do you think this, Lacryma?”

“I’m going to fight a hopeless battle today. Sure, we may win, but I will likely die, and even if I don’t.” She paused for a moment. “There is a fine line between what I am and a murderous heretic.” She answered honestly, and he stepped forward.

“That has nothing to do with my feelings. I love you! This is coming from the bottom of my heart.” He answered, undeterred; and Lacryma wondered when he had changed from the young boy she met at the beginning of the First Heathen War, to the confident man he was now; but she still couldn’t let him do this.

“I can be cold blooded. I kill heathens and anyone who breaks the church’s law.” Lacryma said as she turned to face Emilio, eyes and expression as cold as ice.

“That’s fine.” Emilio shrugged uncaringly and took another step toward her. Lacryma’s expression changed to a confused one immediately and he shrugged again. “I love you the way you are. Whatever the result may be, I will never regret it.” He answered her silent question and hugged her tightly. Lacryma stood rigid in Emilio’s arms, stunned and bewildered by the young man…

*~*

Lacryma snapped out of her reverie to find that the door to her home was open, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling lightly as Emilio leaned against the doorframe as he waited for her, even now. “Emilio” She said softly as she stared into his gentle blue eyes.

“Welcome home, Lacryma.” He smiled back and reached out toward her as he almost always did, to let her take his hand as she felt like it. She took his hand gently with her own and he led her into the house. “I missed you.” He spoke softly to the woman as she moved to his side. “So did Bach.”

“I missed you both too.” She answered as she reached back with her other hand and shut the door behind them. She was glad to be home.


	2. Great Fighters I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This scene takes place during A.E.37; mid-july, at the beginning of Great Fighter's Tournament Opening Ceremonies during a yearly event known as the Memorial Festival. It includes a lot of characters that are still current in the campaign. Could this become its own chaptered story? Possibly, but who knows.

Vapula, Aeolus: the home of the Scarlet Coliseum. Capable of holding eighty thousand people, it was by far the biggest arena in the known world. It was also home to the Memorial Festival every year, since the end of the First Heathen War.

And today, the Scarlet Coliseum was filled to the brim with people from all over the world to witness the festivities. In the center of the arena, upon an elevated podium, a woman stood center stage. With long light brown hair and a white satin dress with the Aeolus Emblem embroidered into the sleeves: a mountain in the shape of a conch. It was basically Baraqijal Mountain; and it represented the size of the trials and tribulations met to create their society. Thie woman stood tall and waited for everyone to be seated. Behind her, five others sat, all of equal rank to her, and some of them even her closest friends. At each corner of the podium, one of Cinzia’s four Elite Generals stood. Agatha Vier, a long haired woman with red armour and the title of “Long Haired Demon”. Matias Surge, a red haired fighter with the title of “Lightning Panther” because of his speed. Lan Mossdeep, a dark haired young man with the title of “Fearsome Viper” who fought with nunchaku and swift kicks. Fuuka Mossdeep, a martial artist with the title of “Iron Limb Devil” for her punches and kicks are revered as deadly weapons, second only to the masters of the White Orchid Martial Art. While the audience settled, the woman glanced to the south, east and west of the podium, where sixteen adventuring parties stood with banners to represent themselves.

As soon as a general silence took over the excited air, the woman took a deep breath and opened her arms wide. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the world; you all know me as the Chieftain of the Aeolus region, but I stand before you today; not as a Chieftain, not as ‘Master’, but as a person paying homage as the rest of you are.” She paused and took a deep breath. “The Memorial Festival is a time of both pride and sorrow for the people of Alterius. It signifies what we have overcome as a people since our arrival here upon this continent after the Exodus. However, it also signifies our many losses over the years and during the First Heathen War. Every year, we hold a tournament to show to remind us all of how hard the world fought to claim the life we live today. This tournament began a week ago, with over three hundred teams, and now; only sixteen teams remain. Today, these sixteen teams will fight in this coliseum to determine who truly the great battlers are in our generation. To all of you, I wish the best of luck. Now, our other esteemed leaders have a few words to say.” She bowed once to the north, once to the east, once to the south, and once to the west before she sat down in her seat at the very right of the line of leaders while applause and cheering filled the stadium.

Laika Pride was a thin but muscular man with blonde hair and brown eyes. He wore white fur clothing and thick leather boots which clunked loudly as he stood up and stepped to the front. On the right breast pocket of his jacket, a silver horse with a large snowflake symbol was embroidered; the symbol of the Boreas Tribe. It meant the ability to ride forward even through the toughest conditions. “I only have one thing to say. Fight. Fight as if your life depended on absolute victory.” His tone was even and his expression even more so as he spoke, but the seriousness radiated off of his figure. With that, he turned and sat back down. He looked over to his left and nodded at his neighbour.

A heavily armoured man named Percival Pascal stood next, once the cheering died down again. Upon his sholderplates, a vase stood upright was emblazoned; the symbol of the Eurus. It was understood that while the vase could fall and spill out at any time, the vase would be placed upright once more, as the people of the region could and have done. He stepped forward and looked out through his helmet’s visor. He raised the visor looked around through blue eyes. “Fighters, you bring honour to us by fighting, never doubt yourselves or your abilities; for to make it this far into the tournament is a feat in itself. You bring pride to yourselves, your families and your regions. Shine on!” He brought a fist to his breast and beat on his chestplate twice, which got the crowd cheering again. He wondered if it was him or just the excitement of the event that caused this reaction as he sat down.

Next stood Nicholas Vicarius; with deep brown hair and jade coloured eyes, he was definitely a looker. he took a deep breath and stepped forward. He wore a typical green gi and on its back, a blank face half covered by a veil, half not. It was the symbol of the Notus Region; it represented self-growth, in where everyone starts own hidden by the veil of their youth but gradually work to remove the veil of self-doubt and create their self-image. On the front over the breast was a white orchid known as the Ariethusa Bulbosa, or Dragon’s Mouth. A symbol of high mastery in the White Orchid Martial Art as taught in the Notus Region’s monkdom. “Ladies and Gentlemen, what I want to see out of you today is that fighting spirit. Show me your passion, your courage, your bravery! While this is a memorial festival, it is also a tournament. How better to honour those who gave their hearts and their lives for the people than to give your heart and your courage to them! Fight on!” He sat back down as cheering erupted again, but with whistling from some of the ladies in the audience. He gave a meek little wave and sighed. “Sometimes I think I’m just too beautiful.”

A moment later and a blindfolded woman wearing a red shemagh and red desert robes stood up. She seemed younger than the others on the podium, but just as regal. On the back of her robes, four wings were embroidered above of a smaller symbol of the sun. It was the symbol of Pazuzu and represented that while the sun is strong, the people of the Pazuzu tribe have had the strength and courage to rise above the challenges they were given. She stepped forward to the edge of the podium with ease and spoke. “I am Anselma Cross, but you all know me as the Desert Rose. I am here in place of my mother, Lilith Cross; the Desert Lily and Chieftain of the Pazuzu Region. I bring to you a message from my mother: while I am unable to watch your glory in person, know that I am proud of all who fight on this day and to everyone who stands up for what they believe in, regardless of the odds placed against them. Now, I also have a few words for you all. It’s an old proverb, but it’s the truth. If you say you can, or you cannot; you’re right. So, believe in yourselves and show who is truly worthy of the coveted title ‘Greatest Battlers’. Thank you.” With that, the lady pivoted and walked back toward her seat.

Next to the blindfolded woman was another woman with red hair tied up in what seemed to be several pony tails wrapped into a bun. Holding the bun together a golden clip that looked to be a flower being blown by a gentle wind. Any horticulturalist or herbalist could recognize the flower as the Amaryllis Belladonna. It was the Zephyrus Region’s emblem, and it represented the ability to grow and prosper, as well as the pride one could have for having such a place to call one’s own. “I am Chi Alberich.” She spoke as she stood up and dusted off her blue and gold cheongsam with her blue gloves which extended to her upper arm. She also seemed to be wearing blue leggings, and flat blue shoes. “As you all know, I am the leader of the Zephyrus Region. I don’t really have much to say that my esteemed colleagues haven’t already said, so I say to you; be swift and may the gentle winds of fortune be with you today.” She bowed several times, toward each group and then sat back down, giving a wink to Nicholas as she passed. Nicholas smiles lightly back and chuckles as Percival nudges his arm in amusement.

Cinzia stood up again after Chi sat back down. “Now, with that done; it is my great honour to introduce our Master of Ceremonies for the rest of the tournament. She is a woman who is known far and wide as the ‘Iron Limb Devil’ for various reasons, including her last appearance in this tournament with the other now Elite Generals, six years ago. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, Lady Fuuka Mossdeep.” She started applauding, as did the crowd.

As Fuuka stepped to the front of the podium, the other generals escorted the chieftains to their seats in the stands with the capacity crowd. “Hello and allow me to officially welcome you all to the Twenty Ninth Annual Memorial “Great Fighters” Tournament.” Her voice was as bright as she leaped off of the podium and onto the ground. “The rules of the competition are simple. You fight; first team to have no more fighters left conscious loses and the winner advances to the next round. Between matches, we have medics who will heal you up and you’ll have time to recover all your abilities through magical methods. Oh yes, once an opponent is down or unconscious; do not attack them any longer.”

She moved over to a group to the east end of the arena floor. “These groups of adventuring parties have gone through four preliminary rounds already to reach this stage, and now they will be divided into four blocks of four teams in elimination style tournament! In Block A, we have: Hailing from Pazuzu, these people are vicious, so you want to be careful, or they may just take a bite out of you! They are the Noble Mad Wolves!” She points to the first group, six men carrying a banner with a wolf on it. 

“From the Notus Region, don’t let their colour choices fool you, they’re as ferocious as they are fabulous! The Mauve Warriors!” She points to the second group, three women, all dressed in floral dresses and three men in flashy mauve suits who are waving a mauve banner with a fist embroidered on it. 

“From the Boreas Region, these holy folk not only how to pray to the divine, they can deliver a divine whooping too! The Compelling Revenants” she points to the third group, two women, and four men, all wearing various forms of holy garb. 

“Finally, from the home land, they like to laugh, they like to fight, and when they fight, they throw caution to the wind; The Foolhardy Hyena team.” She points at the last group, four men, two women, wearing assorted clothing and holding a flag with a hyena embroidered on it. “Give it up for Block A of your Great Fighter’s Tournament!” She shouted and the crowd cheered in excitement.

Fuuka stepped to the second set of groups and took another deep breath. “In Block B, we have: with members hailing from both Eurus and Notus, these warriors are ready to spread their wings and fly into glory, The Fearless Vulture team.” She extended her arm toward the first group, six people wearing very fancy clothing and holding a banner with a bird on it. 

“With members from Boreas, Eurus, Notus and Zephyrus, these six have travelled the world, challenging themselves and all others as they made their way to this world stage! They are the Famous Savages Troupe.” Indeed, the group seemed to be six barbarians, and the banner was blank, but tattered. 

“With minds of stone and fists just as hard, it’s not a surprise that we have the Compelling Stone Maidens from Pazuzu joining us here today for a shot at the title of Greatest Fighter!” The next group were all women and their banner was the Pazuzu emblem, except the sun was replaced by a boulder. “Last but not least in B Block, From Zephyrus; these guys always seem to know the way, to victory! They are the Meddling Wayfinders.” The last group’s banner was designed to resemble a map of some sort. “Show some love for your B Block, ladies and gentlemen!” The crowd continued to cheer.

Fuuka nodded her head and skipped to the third group of participants. “In Block C, first we have: From Notus, Pazuzu, Eurus and Boreas, a team that while lacking in strength, makes up for it in cunning and tactics. If you’re not careful, you’ll feel the viper’s strike! I give you, the team of the Superior Obsidian Vipers” She motioned to the first group of people. Their faces were obscured by their masks, but they carried their black banner with a snake emblem on it.

“Next, with their ability to pin their enemies down at almost any range, no challenge is too daunting for them! From Eurus, please welcome the Undaunted Blue Wolverines!” Fuuka pointed at the second group in C block, a group of lightly armoured folks with various weapons. The tallest one carried a blue banner with a wolverine’s snout embroidered on it.

“Another team from Aeolus, these fellows know their homeland and they hold their homeland with pride in their pride in their weapons! Ladies and gentlemen, they are the Reputable Lions!” This group was men and women with varying types of armour and exotic weapons. They had a green banner with a lion imprinted on it.

“Last for this block, while they may seem entirely unorthodox to you and everyone else here, they find a way to mesh together like a finely woven quilt. From every region in Alterius, I bring to you, the Foolhardy Crimson Ape and the Speakers of Truth!” The last group of the block each wore garb from their respective regions and their banner had an infinity symbol upon it. “You know what to do, folks! Let’s welcome them here!”

Fuuka stepped to the last block and pointed at the first group. “Ladies, Gentlemen, and children of all ages, from Zephyrus: don’t take your eyes off of this group, or it could be over before you even know it. Beauty, speed, power, intelligence; this group has it all. From Zephyrus, these ladies are both sexy and deadly; first in D Block, they are the Moonlight Outsiders.” The six were all wearing ninja garb and their banner was dark with a moon in the upper left corner of it.

“And their opponents, from the Notus Region; their motions are hypnotic and their attacks, devastating. They are a force trained by the master of White Orchid Martial Arts himself. They are the Hypnotic Forged Scorpions.” She pointed at a group of monks which carried a banner with a vampire lotus on it.

“Thirdly, forged by ice, and tempered in the blizzards of the north, these rangers are no stranger to harsh situations, and are ready to overcome any obstacle! They are the Unbreakable Boars.” This group appeared to be all rangers wearing varying amounts of thick, light armour; faces hidden underneath their hoods and face protectors. Their banner was white with a boar on the front.

“And last, but not least; these folks are loud, they’re incredible, and in their free time, they travel and play beautiful music for you and I. Get caught by their song, and fall to their power. Ladies and Gentlemen, from Aeolus I give you, the Incredible Platinum Bards!” Fuuka pointed at the last group, men and women with various instruments in hand, some that even resembled weapons. Their banner was white with a series of instruments together on it.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, D Block; and with that, please give a hand for all the Great Fighters here in this tournament!” She called out, and as the crowd cheered, magic missiles flew from all around the arena, into the sky and exploding like fireworks. “Let the Great Fighters Tournament begin! Fighters! go to your waiting rooms and wait to be called! Any peeking on the fights is considered cheating, so stay there!” Fuuka ordered and sixteen gates opened around them and matching banners unfurled from each. “Now, your officials for the day will be Elite General Matias Surge of Aeolus, Hunter Prime Sascha Hearne of Boreas, Huntsman Amadeus Caine of Eurus, Inquisitor Bach Vine di Christi-Alberich of Notus, Guardian Alexandra Zofia of Pazuzu, and Major-General Reuben Kritiker of Zephyrus.”

As Fuuka went to go to her seat with the other Elite Generals, she smiled lightly and started skipping instead of walking. This was always her favorite time of year, and the competition was shaping up to be a heck of an event. As she passed Matias Surge, she smacked his hand and said “Tagging you in. Just like old times.” He laughed and kept walking to the center of the arena to meet with the other five officials, former rivals in this very tournament.


End file.
